


Inhibitions

by sky_blue_hightops



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sickfic, Vomiting, and honestly thats a mood, connor aggressively loves sumo with every fiber of his being, connor my poor child, sorry - Freeform, still have no idea what im doin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops
Summary: “Several people offered me drinks, which I accepted. One of them, however, set off my sensors. Hank, is it supposed to do that? I believe it affected several of my biocomponents-”Set off his sensors? “Connor, did you get roofied?” A blank stare. Hank cursed. “I can’t believe this."***someone please protect connor





	Inhibitions

When Hank asked if he wanted to ‘hit up’ the local bar a few months after the revolution, Connor said yes mainly to keep an eye on Hank’s alcohol consumption. He had been to this bar twice before (once after the revolution, once after being officially hired to the DPD) but with the lack of a substance that could affect androids, he had never been inebriated.

“Hank, I do believe me trying such a drink would be unwise. My scans say it could affect my processing capabilities.”

Hank grinned, drink hanging out of one hand while the other held out a glass of a  _suspicious_ liquid for Connor to take. “That’s the point, idiot. That’s kinda why I dragged you here, y'know. One of you androids made somethin’ that makes you feel drunk.” The older man sobered up slightly, setting both drinks down. “I figured you might wanna experience…I dunno, something human. Stupid idea-”

In a flash of bravery, Connor grabbed the glass and drained it in one gulp. He coughed, grimacing as Hank pounded a hand on his back. “T-thanks, Hank,” he rasped, doing his best to ignore how the taste made his sensors fizz in and out.

A bright smile. Connor wished Hank smiled like that all the time, because he looked a little more alive. “You’re welcome, kid. You up for a game of pool?”

Connor tilted his head in confusion, warmth buzzing under his skin. “I do not have a program for a game called 'pool’. Should I search for the instructions in my database?”

Hank chuckled, swinging an arm over the android’s shoulder. “Nah, I’ll teach you. C'mon, while that table’s still open.”

***

An hour and two drinks later saw Connor leaning on the corner of the pool table, simultaneously trying to watch Hank and keep his balance.

Hank was another drink in and waving the cue stick in the air, gesturing at a shot he had just taken and almost whacking another patron in the face. Connor would intervene, but taking a step forward revealing walking was slightly more difficult than he had expected.

He settled in to watch, only moving when Hank motioned for him to order another round. The bartender complied, passing him two more glasses with an amused smile. Connor would inquire as to why, but was engrossed in flashing his hands between the synthetic skin and the white surfacing with almost childlike wonder.

Hank left his one-sided game of pool (Connor had given up a long time ago and the bar was mostly empty) to join Connor at the bar, downing his glass. Connor pushed his around, now caught up in showing off his coin tricks to the bartender (her amused smile even wider). His hands shook slightly but somehow he still managed to pull off his usual gravity-defying feats.

***

Hank blinked. In a mere ten minutes, Connor had gone from amassing a decently-sized crowd to watch his fancy coin tosses, to being dragged to the dance floor by a group of college kids on break. The older detective watched from a table a few feet away, waving Connor away with a smile when the android turned to send him an inquiring look.

Connor, it seemed, was an instant hit. “Man, Connor does the robot  _once_  and everyone loves him, but  _I_  try to dance and get banned from every bar within five miles,” Hank muttered into his drink. But it was good to see the android try new things, it was good to see him live and learn. Hank looked up from his drink to watch Connor. (And Connor was, admittedly, much better at dancing than he was.)

It took all of half an hour for everyone to clear out, until only a few stragglers remained. Technically, the bar had closed fifteen minutes ago but the bartender didn’t look too mad seeing as the kids with Connor kept ordering drinks.

Hank walked up to the android, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Ready to go home yet, kid?”

Connor nodded, brightening up. “Did you see that? I believe I am not bad at the kind of dancing they were teaching me, Hank!” He hiccuped. Hank frowned. Connor was swaying under his hand, smile goofy and honestly, a little creepy.

“Hey, uh, you okay over there Connor? Not gonna puke on me, are you?”  _Can androids puke?_  He added mentally, taking a cautionary step back. Connor listed into the countertop without Hank to help keep him upright. Hank was a little buzzed, but more than sober enough to realize that something was up.

“Several people offered me drinks, which I accepted. One of them, however, set off my sensors. Hank, is it supposed to do that? I believe it affected several of my biocomponents-”

_Set off his sensors?_  “Connor, did you get  _roofied_?” A blank stare. Hank cursed. “I can’t believe this. C'mon. We’re definitely going home once you tell me whether we need to talk to a mechanic or something.” Connor shook his head, content to let his eyes droop shut. “Unbelievable. Now they’re makin’ android drugs that don’t even work,” Hank muttered. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

A nod. “The best option would be enough time in rest mode. My systems will get rid of the toxin automatically.”

“Alright, if you say so. Time to go.” He gestured to the bartender. “Sorry about this. How should I pay?”

She waved them off, already wiping down the counter. “Not a problem, honey. You’d better go before he falls over. If I see you again I’ll charge you, but if not consider it on me.”

Hank nodded his thanks, cursing when he realized Connor had made it halfway to the doors without him noticing. He jogged to catch up, making to Connor’s side just in time to keep the android from stepping face-first into the doorframe. “Alright, buddy. One step at a time.  _Around_  the wall, please.”

Connor complied, taking a step sideways and another through the doorway before staggering down the steps. Hank was reaching for his keys when the car, still several yards away, beeped twice and flashed its lights. He turned to Connor, who was pressing a finger to his LED and looking far too proud of himself for being able to remotely unlock the car. Hank rolled his eyes ( _showoff_ ) and gently pushed Connor towards the passenger side, hands on his shoulders.

“Hank?”

“Yeah, kid?” Hank replied, pulling at the door handle with shaking hands. It took a few tries before it popped open.  _Should probably call a cab_ , he thought, then decided against it as he only had three drinks and it would be a hassle to get the car in the morning.

“Why does…this feel so bad?” Connor slurred, tipping sideways into the passenger seat. Hank huffed a sigh and closed the door, quickly crossing to drop into the driver’s seat.

“You’re drunk. And drugged. I don’t even wanna know how many drinks you had tonight, but I bet you’ll feel it tomorrow morning,” Hank replied. “Unless androids don’t get hangovers. Which wouldn’t be fair. Then I’d have to punch you in the face to make up for it.”

He pulled out onto the street, driving slower than normal just in case. The streets were quiet, lit only by the streetlights and, very rarely, the headlights of a passing car. Connor pressed his hands up against the glass, content to gaze up at the streetlights with that same stupidly-dazed look on his face. “Hank?”

Another longsuffering sigh. “Yeah?”

Connor hummed and tapped the glass. “Why are we going home?”

“So you can rest.”

“Why?”

“So you can sleep that stuff off.”

“Why?”

“Beca- I swear if you ask me 'why’ one more time I’ll keep Sumo in the bedroom with me.”

Silence. Connor glanced at him nervously. “Would you really?” he whispered, voice shaky.  _Was he gonna start crying?_  Hank backpedaled.

“No, I just- I got annoyed-” A few panicked curses. “You can have Sumo, okay-”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to annoy you, Hank!” If Hank could  _nope_  right out of this moving car, he would. Gladly. Anything to escape the meltdown he knew was imminent. He could practically  _hear_ the tears rolling down Connor’s cheeks.

More cursing. “Stop, kid, you’re fine, okay? Just…calm down! Stop crying,  _please_.” Connor quieted down to just sniffles. Hank frantically avoided eye contact in the rearview mirror. It was, what, five minutes until they got home and he could cheer the kid up with Sumo? Worked every time, and he prayed it worked now. Hank was so not emotionally stable enough to deal with a drugged up, weepy  _android_  of all things.

Quiet, blessed quiet. The scenery whizzed by, a blur of blue and black and yellow. Wind stirred the treetops outside. Several minutes passed in which the only noise were Connor’s hushed  _sniffs_.

“…Hank?”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

***

It was, in fact, five minutes until they reached Hank’s house. Hank pulled in and parked. He had barely taken the keys out of the car when Connor opened the door and stumbled out, walking as quickly as he could (so, not very) to the front door.

“Woah, woah, slow down!” Hank got out and locked the car, chasing after Connor for the second time that night (in his opinion, two times too many). Connor staggered into the door and pulled out his copy of the house key before unlocking the door and heading inside.

“Hey, hey, what’s up with you?” Hank cursed, closing the door behind him. No response. He walked in the kitchen to find…

He shouldn’t even be surprised at this point.

Connor was sitting next to an unamused Sumo, hugging the Saint Bernard like his life depended on it. “Now you cannot separate us, Hank,” Connor insisted, voice muffled by Sumo’s fur and by how hard he was squishing his face against it.

Hank sat down in the kitchen chair and rubbed his temples against the oncoming headache. “I’m not gonna separate you two, Connor. I just- you can keep the dog, alright? Geez, kid.”

Connor released his death grip on Sumo slightly. “But you said-” His face flushed blue, and he struggled to get to his feet. “Hank, my systems are attempting to expell the toxin-”

Hank’s eyes widened as he caught the meaning. He rushed to Connor’s side to help him to the bathroom. “You’d better not puke on my floors, _I swear_ -”

The pair reached the bathroom just in time for Connor to hurl in the toilet ( _gross_ , Hank thought, wadding up some toilet paper to pass the kid when he finished). Connor shuddered and leaned back into Hank. The older detective gave him the tissue, letting Connor wipe his face and chuck it in the toilet before flushing the entire mess down the drain.

“You done?” Hank rested a hand on the top of Connor’s head.

Connor closed his eyes. “I-I don’t think so.”

“I’ll get a pillow or somethin’. You okay with staying in here for tonight?”

A hand caught him around the wrist. “Stay here?” The  _with me_  went unsaid.

“Sure thing, kid.” Hank tried to pry Connor’s fingers off. “You gotta let me go if I’m gonna get pillows and stuff, and I’m definitely not sleepin’ in here without any.”

***

Bonus:

Connor kept peeking at him over breakfast with this sort of pained grimace. Hank put up with it for about ten minutes before cracking. “ _What_  is up with your face?”

“I am attempting to recreate what humans refer to as a 'hangover’. Last night you said you would, and I quote, 'punch you in the-’”

Hank barked a laugh. “I was joking, Connor. Geez. Now hurry up and get your shoes so we can leave.”


End file.
